


projectile motion

by jongdaesang (d10smessi)



Series: there will be us [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Bandverse, Fluff, M/M, Romance, non-au, non-chronological storytelling, predebut to future setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 20:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11043366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d10smessi/pseuds/jongdaesang
Summary: jongin and kyungsoo are one object tracing a single trajectory.





	projectile motion

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: depictions of depression, medical overdose
> 
> these are very vague in the fic as it is a little jongin-centric. next part of the collection would be kyungsoo's. this fic is very personal to me, so i hope you read it with an open heart and an open mind. thank you.

**_2011_ **

 

“would you like to have some coffee with me, _hyung_?”

 

a heart-shaped smile. wide eyes narrowing into beautiful half-moons. a _yes, it’s a date, jongin._

 

 

 

**_before_ **

 

when jongin was eight, he saw people on stage, dancing, and decided, ‘yes. i want to do that too.’ years later, several broken bones and pulled muscles and aching joints later, he did.

 

maybe it was fate—that he was there at that exact moment, that exact time, to witness the spectacle—but eight-year old jongin did not know that. eight-year old jongin was fascinated by the way the performers were able to control their body, how they were new people on stage. he was the youngest child and nothing was easier than asking his doting parents for dance lessons.

 

when he was old enough (not really, he realized years down the road), he went to sm and auditioned. he was not the most good-looking, he knew. there was a boy taller than he was, with a nose bridge so high and so straight jongin felt envious. there were, in fact, several boys like that—tall and handsome with wide eyes and pale, pale, pale, skin. jongin was still short and dark and his nose wasn’t ideal—cute, his friends would say, but never ideal. 

 

jongin was never enough.

 

unsurprisingly, sm rejected him, told him he was too young to be a trainee. jongin thought it was a lie—he knew that if sm really wanted him on their roster, they would put him on their roster. one of the evaluating staff gave him a soft smile though.

 

“come back when you’re older and better,” he said. “we’ll see then.”

 

the fire inside jongin lit up and grew like it was summer again and, right then there, he decided to dedicate his remaining time to practice dancing—he’d show them. he’d dance in front of them once he’s ready and they’d have no choice but to take him.

 

so, years later, when he auditioned again (taller, still not pale but slowly growing into his looks), he threw himself to the wind, remembered that first performance when he was eight, and _danced_. there was a moment of silence after the last notes of an old r &b and jongin opened his eyes to slack jaws and unblinking eyes. there was a cough from someone before papers were frantically shuffled and jongin distinctly heard someone, breathy and disbelieving, said, _sign him._

 

 

 

**_sometime in 2010_ **

 

life as an sm trainee was a new circle of hell. jongin had to compete with other boys, with his close friends, to gain a spot under the lights and the label.

 

so he practiced and practiced. jongin pulled a muscle one day and sprained an ankle another. growing bones protesting, he would trudge to sm with his worn out backpack and his even more worn out shoes as physical testaments of his hard work; they work as well as medical bills and stark muscle patches on his skin.

 

there were encouraging words from the staff, their pseudo-managers, who would tell jongin that he’s a _sure thing, sm would debut a new group in two or three years._

 

jongin, the fool, believed them. 

 

 

 

**_late 2015_ **

 

they’re not doing well, jongin thought. kyungsoo was cold in the face of every obstacle. jongin wondered if he would care if they broke up. in the middle of their concert tour, while exo was on top, jongin morbidly marveled at how them—himself, kyungsoo, whoever else—would fall down after.

 

jongin stared kyungsoo in the eye. this was it, the confrontation he’d been waiting for. 

 

the older man was unmoving, sitting on the edge of his hotel bed. there was a fissure in the air, like a porcelain vase dropping on the floor. the case cracked just as it created thunders in the atmosphere.

 

“do you even care about me at this point, do kyungsoo?”

 

_that_ startled something inside kyungsoo. jongin thought, from the expression in kyungsoo’s face, that he might not be the vase in this scenario—maybe jongin was the one pushing it to crack, maybe kyungsoo was the disturbances in the vibrations, the scattered pieces.

 

“why are you even asking me that question” kyungsoo’s voice was soft, vulnerable for once. he had always been the strong one in their relationship—the immovable mountain to jongin’s unstoppable force.

 

“kyungsoo,” jongin kneeled down in front of kyungsoo. kyungsoo’s sock clad toes curled and his palms turned in to fists. tension palpable, jongin added, “i need to know. i can’t always just wait for the crumbs you’d give me.”

 

kyungsoo reeled back as if jongin slapped him.

 

“crumbs,” he deadpanned. his voice sounded flat. “you think how i showed my love to you was crumbs? that i don’t value this relationship—you—as much?”

 

“no!” jongin almost screamed. he wanted to pull his hair out. “no. i didn’t mean it like that. but sometimes, kyungsoo, i want—no. i need to hear it from you. sometimes actions are not enough when we live a life where actions are always half-meant with a double entendre. sometimes they’re not enough for me because i ask myself how real they are.”

 

jongin felt tears brimming on his eyes and kyungsoo leaned down, slowly, and cupped jongin’s face delicately. the dancer thought his lover was trying to keep him from breaking, or maybe putting him back together—maybe jongin was the vase in this scenario. maybe they both were.

 

kyungsoo kissed him on his lids and jongin’s eyes fluttered shut. then on his forehead and then on the tip of his nose and then on his lips. his thumb caressed jongin’s tears away.

 

“i love you,” kyungsoo said. “i love you so much and i’m thankful for you. i don’t want you to doubt that. i’m sometimes stupid and insensitive but i love you, okay? i love you so _so so_ much, jongin, and no matter how many so’s i put in there, i still wouldn’t be able to express how much.”

 

jongin laughed.

 

 

 

**_a typical day_ **

 

it was wednesday when jongin woke up, curled around kyungsoo’s body, and his day was already made when he felt the steady rise of kyungsoo’s chest against his. the older male’s face was pressed on his neck, a tiny hand clutching jongin’s index finger.

 

jongin’s heart grew two sizes at the sight of his sleeping partner and when kyungsoo shuffled to press himself closer, his heart grew a size again. jongin wondered how his chest could keep his heart inside when this was a daily occurrence. 

 

how could one feel so much for another person, jongin thought. and he smiled so wide because, wow, he’d been thinking that since 2012, maybe 2011. the only explanation to this phenomenon was that kyungsoo was amazing, the most amazing in the world.

 

“hey,” jongin whispered. “wake up.”

 

no reaction.

 

“ _jagiya,_ ” he tried again. jongin pressed a soft kiss on kyungsoo’s temple, tapping his free hand lightly on kyungsoo’s back. “we need to get dressed.”

 

there was a whine from the sleeping male and jongin resisted the urge to coo because kyungsoo would brain him if he heard. kyungsoo’s eyelids moved and jongin watched long lashes slowly fluttering against soft skin. there was a pimple to the left of kyungsoo’s eyebrow.

 

“wake up. wake up. wake up. wa—”

 

a hand shot up to smush jongin’s face and stop his whining. the younger felt laughter bubble inside him when kyungsoo, disoriented and sleepy, slowly disentangle himself from the twist they (and the blankets) ended up being in from last night.

 

“shut up,” the smaller man growled once he’s sitting up, hand still pressed and barely covering jongin’s face.

 

jongin spluttered a laugh, putting away kyungsoo’s hand from his face so he could guffaw to his heart’s content. he sat up, too, smiling so wide and releasing leftover giggles. kyungsoo’s eyes were partially open and he looked like he’s glaring at the world in general. 

 

“good morning,” jongin said cheerfully. he leaned in to press a kiss square on kyungsoo’s chapped lips, delicate and chaste, nothing rushed but with all the love he felt. “i love you.”

 

kyungsoo pulled away first, and said, “your breath stinks.”

 

jongin felt the older man’s hand entwining with his own and, with a playful and mock indignant expression, he retorted, “yours, too!”

 

kyungsoo laughed out loud in response, his eyes were in crescents and his mouth was a pretty heart. jongin smiled so wide and his chest felt so heavy and so light at the same time. kyungsoo’s laughter looked like the sun and the beach and the old wooden floors of a dance studio. it was like all of jongin’s favorites rolled into one.

 

jongin gazed at his lover, at his best friend, and knew he would never love someone this way again.

 

 

 

**_2014_ **

 

their manager helped him with the purchase. discreetness was a skill forced in the entertainment industry, especially with in these kinds of things.

 

hidden inside jongin’s old childhood bedroom, just waiting for the right time, was a ring—plain silver and matching with _kyungsoo and jongin_ engraved inside.

 

 

 

**_2017 january 13_ **

 

jongin was right—the silver was beautiful on kyungsoo’s ring finger.

 

 

 

**_2016 april_ **

 

they didn’t talk about it.

 

there’s a distinct tension in the air—between kyungsoo and jongin, among the members themselves. both chanyeol’s and jongin’s knuckles were bruised after they traded blows that left sehun in tears.

 

kyungsoo would insist, “jongin is a nice person.” 

 

chanyeol would growl but stay quiet, proceeding to lavish kyungsoo with attention. minseok and jongdae would remain in their rooms. junmyeon’s lips would press together. baekhyun would shake his head and offer pats on kyungsoo’s back. yixing barely had any idea what was going on.

 

jongin barely moved, but when he did, it’s to dance and dance and dance. his muscles ached but it was nothing compared to the suffocating weight on his chest.

 

their relationship was hanging on the thread strung on kyungsoo’s fingers, delicate and vulnerable. they were a gasp away from their ending, one breath, one kiss, one shout, one cry. jongin would sleep at night while waiting for the fireworks.

 

 

 

**_2012 april 08_ **

 

jongin screamed delightedly afterwards. he was tired and sweaty and he smelled but the joy he was feeling was something he could not contain.

 

“kyungsoo!” he ran to the older boy. kyungsoo looked shaken, but in a good way. “kyungsoo, we made it!”

 

he wrapped his arms around kyungsoo’s waist, twirling him around. kyungsoo squeaked before smacking him.

 

“put me down, you idiot!”

 

“no, hyung! i’m happy!” jongin spun again, kyungsoo secure within his arms. he’s a little heavy with the lethargy that sunk on jongin’s bones, but adrenaline was an amazing thing.

 

“you can be happy without making me dizzy,” kyungsoo half-screamed, half-cried. “put me down or else.”

 

jongin just giggled. baekhyun threw them dirty looks but chanyeol hollered and also lifted sehun to spin him around. 

 

 

 

**_2020_ **

 

kyungsoo entered the military and, before leaving, jongin and kyungsoo made sure to tattoo their marks on each other.

 

 

 

**_2022 august_ **

 

jongin and kyungsoo were in bed together, tangled in the sheets. kyungsoo was playing with the ring on jongin’s finger.

 

“jongin?”

 

“yes,” jongin answered, turning to face kyungsoo. he was so beautiful it was heartbreaking.

 

“what would you do if we’re not idols?” skepticism colored kyungsoo’s words.

 

jongin pretended to think even if he knew the answer. after a beat, he smiled at kyungsoo, pecking him on lips, “i would go and find you.” 

 

 

 

**_2022 november_ **

 

jongin had expected the fall-out to be fireworks exploding in the sky but, instead, it happened quietly. there were no explosions, no screaming matches. kyungsoo had grown distant and silent again. jongin would look at kyungsoo and he would see the remaining shell of a person. his enlistment drew near like an ultimatum.

 

there weren’t any fireworks. jongin would go to sleep beside kyungsoo and the older man would scoot farther, placing a distance in between them. it was no more than a foot but to jongin, it was a whole universe he wouldn’t be able to cross.

 

 

 

**_2022 december_ **

 

there were three weeks left before jongin entered the military, pushing it until the last possible moment like most, if not all, idols and celebrities.

 

kyungsoo reserved a private room for dinner so jongin, dressed in all black, met the older man in the restaurant.

 

“hi,” kyungsoo greeted him. jongin nodded and smiled.

 

the meal tasted stale on jongin’s tongue. the air was thick and suffocating so he loosened another button on his black shirt. kyungsoo resolutely sampled the food in front of him but his fingers were already trembling.

 

“jongin,” kyungsoo began. the younger man knew where this was going. he was tempted to just stand up and leave, tell kyungsoo it was okay. he knew where this would go.

 

“i can’t do this anymore.”

 

 

 

**_2023_ **

 

jongin had both rings now. the silver winked at him mockingly.

 

 

 

**_2025 april 08_ **

 

it was their 13th anniversary. 

 

exo had a three-day concert in gocheok. there, jongin watched as fans filled the seats. on the third day, junmyeon announced a special album, a _farewell album._

 

jongin watched the women, most of whom grew old with him, sob quietly. every member had a small smile on their face, going around the stage comforting their fans.

 

jongin watched as kyungsoo waved to several groups. his eyes devoid of any light.

 

 

 

**_2025 may_ **

 

they’re in the middle of what they dubbed as their promotional farewell. in a few months, exo would officially disband. for old time’s sake, junmyeon suggested living in the dorms again. jongin, despite not fitting in the abhorrent bunk bed, agreed.

 

this time, he was not roommates with kyungsoo. 

 

they’re civil but jongin had been perpetually awkward. chanyeol, to his surprise, commented that it was not jongin’s fault but kyungsoo’s. jongin would defend kyungsoo if minseok and jongdae didn’t voice their agreements.

 

sehun, confused, asked, “what do you mean?”

 

jongdae hummed before takin on an uncharacteristically somber expression. he said, “kyungsoo wasn’t really the same. you know he’d always been a weird kid but ever since last year, or maybe before that, he’d been different.”

 

jongin looked at jongdae’s severe countenance, folding his hands on top of his lap, remaining quiet.

 

 

 

**_2025 june 04_ **

 

there were things in life one wouldn’t be able to forget.

 

it was wednesday and jongin came back to a half-empty dorm. baekhyun was on the couch watching something on his laptop; sehun and minseok were sharing an ugly-made kimbap on the dining room. the rest were probably out on their respective schedules.

 

jongin had shed off his shirt and had his pants unbuttoned when he realized that sehun, in a fit of stupidity he didn’t want to think about, had broken their shower. annoyed, he headed to bathroom in the other room.

 

jongin twisted the door slowly and, quietly pushed himself inside th—

 

“kyungsoo” he screamed. 

 

there he was, kyungsoo, beautiful kyungsoo, lying on the bathroom floor. white pills scattered around him like fallen snow. jongin rushed to him, kyungsoo’s skin was frighteningly pale and he’s cold from lying on the tiles.

 

“oh god, oh god,” jongin chanted. his heart must have stopped too. he was reaching for his phone inside his jeans only to find it wasn't there. “sehun! baekhyun-hyung! minseok-hyung! help! call an ambulance—oh my god. hyung! sehu—”

 

“jongin, are y—oh my god! call 119!”

 

jongin registered minseok’s fingers deftly dialing and talking to someone on the phone. sehun was suddenly kneeling where jongin was cradling kyungsoo. baekhyun picked up the bottle of pills, eyes wide and hands trembling.

 

minseok tried to hold all four of them. jongin, with tears streaming down his face, placed a kiss on kyungsoo's forehead.

 

for the first time in a long while, jongin sincerely prayed.

 

 

 

**_2025 june 05_ **

 

sm announced exo’s d.o.’s hiatus.

 

 

 

**_2025 august 14_ **

 

contract finished, jongin clutched his plane ticket and hoped.

 

 

 

**_and, then, beyond—_ **

 

new york was particularly chilly and jongin huddled deep inside his designer coat. the scarf in his neck was tied haphazardly but it’s doing its job. three women passed by him, pointing to him and giggling. jongin felt the tell-tale warmth creeping on him, embarrassment pooling in red and lingering on the tips of his ears.

 

years of being an idol, he thought wryly, and he’d still shrivel from attention. another woman passed by again and he ducked his head once he felt her stare on his figure. he supposed he could be flattered. “thirty-three and still got it” as sehun said three weeks ago on facetime in lieu of a greeting.

 

jongin went inside the grocery store—his original destination. he leaned on his cart, absentmindedly pushing it across. no one paid him any attention as he went through various aisles, grabbing food product after food product. while money was not an issue, jongin had always been frugal and practical.

 

he’s debating which size of food to get for his toy poodle, Eri (sue his sentimental ass), when a pale hand reached for the larger container two feet away from him. he turned and—

 

jongin’s world tilted on its axis.

 

there, in all his glory, was kyungsoo. bundled up in his jacket, fur lined hood resting on the small of his back, he looked like he’s still in his mid-twenties. kyungsoo looked good, like he's stuck in time. jongin knew 25-year old kyungsoo like the back of his hand.

 

“kyungsoo,” jongin whispered.

 

kyungsoo snapped his head to his direction. jongin resisted the urge to laugh when kyungsoo’s wide eyes became even wider. 

 

“jongin, hi,” he replied. “what are you doing here?”

 

one word. his name on kyungsoo’s lips and jongin, at thirty-three, felt like he was sixteen again—young and vibrant, dancing to pop songs in front of the mirror.

 

and there it was, the fireworks. the warmth. just like how it was in 2011, in 2014, in 2017, in 2023, in 2024, 2025, 2026. now. 

 

“escaping,” he said. “new york is too fast for anyone to pay attention to an ex-idol.”

 

“yeah, i know.” kyungsoo laughed and jongin’s heart stuttered in his chest. kyungsoo’s eyes were in crescents and his lips pulled wide in a heart. 

 

jongin wanted to cry at the sight but he could feel his face splitting in a large grin. there’s a slight flush on kyungsoo’s cheeks and jongin was sure his face was also pink. 

 

“you have a pet here?” kyungsoo asked, lips pouting to point to the two bags in jongin’s hands.

 

“a poodle,” he enthused. “i named him eri!”

 

“you’re so sentimental.” there’s a soft smile from kyungsoo and a slight shake of his head.

 

jongin put on a mock indignant expression. “and what did you name yours?”

 

kyungsoo paused for a moment, cheeks coloring again. jongin watched with bated breath, his heart drumming in his chest like bass line music.

 

“wendy; she’s a maltese.”

 

jongin laughed in response but his heart also jumped inside his ribcage. no matter how much he denied, kyungsoo was also cheesy. he stared at his ex-lover. he was looking good—his eyes and his smile were bright, full of life. this was kyungsoo experiencing being young again here in new york, the city allowed anonymity to bleed into people who wanted to find themselves. jongin’s heart thundered in his chest. it reminded him of the volume in concerts of the past.

 

“listen—”

 

“jongin, do yo—”

 

they broke into a round of laughter.

 

“you first,” kyungsoo offered. he sidled up next to jongin, who’s placing the larger sack of dog food into his shopping cart.

 

jongin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, remembering his audition in SM years and years ago, when he threw himself to the wind and danced. he remembered meeting kyungsoo in 2010, almost two decades ago. he remembered everything and, at the same time, forgot about them. 

 

nothing mattered now. here in a large grocery store in the middle of new york, jongin thought, _maybe—_

 

“would you like to have some coffee with me, _hyung_?”

 

 

 

**— _maybe, a second chance_**

 

jongin and kyungsoo were one object tracing a single trajectory. they’re a projectile moving linearly in time. an anomaly, too, all imperfect lines and inconsistencies amidst the certainty of each other’s existence. this is where they would end, begin, continue—

 

a heart-shaped smile. wide eyes narrowing into beautiful half-moons. a _yes, it’s a date, jongin._

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta-ed once again. i'm not sure if my math is right considering the korean age and all that but jongin entered the military early 2023, korean age 30, and got out early 2025, 32. they met again in 2026, in new york. jongin is 33 and kyungsoo, 34. they haven't seen each other in almost a year. correct my math if it didn't check.
> 
> look forward to the story under the series. thanks to rian, my number hype woman and my muse.


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